Sweetest Freedom
by Ice Cold Steel
Summary: No one can grow up as a pariah without developing some hatred toward those who had been cruel to them, not even Naruto, and she was living proof of it. Beta: YellowKitty


Summary: No one can grow up as a pariah without developing some hatred toward those who had been cruel to them, not even Naruto, and she was living proof of it.

Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto, never have never will.

"Talking"  
'_Thoughts'  
Dream, etc.  
/Flashback/_

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**Chapter One: Imprisoned**

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She pounded against the door with all her might, never once slowing her assault, not even when her hands began to bleed from the misuse. How could he? How could that _idiot _hold back in this fight when their _life _was at stake? He should be fighting, going for every move that would kill, or at least incapacitate, his opponent, not talking and definitely not saying how much the other meant to him. What kind of mindless fool tries to talk his opponent into giving up in the middle of a godforsaken battle? Didn't he have _any _self-preservation instincts at all?

She could hear chuckles, and she knew without a doubt who it was, slamming her fists on the door with more ferocity than before to convey her outrage. At least the damn beast had some form of light. All she had experienced in her life was darkness, loneliness, pain, and hatred, so much hatred and so much damn pain. She knew the fucker could sense her emotions and had taken a liking to her because of it, but it, unlike her, had softened over the years while she remained the hardened, icy being that she had always been.

From the very beginning they were incapable of communicating with each other, for she was trapped in the recess of his mind while it still had the privilege of light, of being able to see through hiseyes, hear through his ears, smell through his nose, and so on, but she never could. She knew everything about it, but it knew absolutely _nothing _about her, and knowing this didn't bother her. Loneliness was an emotion she was far too familiar with, so having no one know her had no affect on her. However, it did enrage her when it betrayed her so cruelly by respecting _him_. How could that fucker do this? And it had even given him a power, though he wasn't yet aware of it. What happened to the beast who had thrashed in its cage, giving himcountless nightmares in order to mentally break him and force him to release it?

She gasped in pain as another emotion was forcibly pushed into her, and she shuddered, stopping her attack on the door to cross her arms over her torso and grasping her sides, creating an "X." She fell to her knees and savagely bit her lower lip as the pure, unadulterated hatred tore away the essence of her existence, her form trembling from the intensity of it. She always knew he was an emotional bastard, but knowing that never did anything to prepare her for the pure _agony _of this.

She could feel invisible hands roaming over her body as he recalled memories of their past, and she yelped when she felt something enter her. She didn't dare look down to see what it was. She'd rather not know. It slid in and out, pounding into her body mercilessly, and it _hurt_. Something forced her mouth open and shoved down her throat, and she resisted the urge to vomit. They were just memories, she knew, and therefore they were simply figments of his mind, however twisted they may be, but the feeling of it was _so _real that she couldn't help but whimper pathetically.

She wanted to scream, but she held her tongue. No matter how much it hurt, she refused to let anyone know. If she suffered, then she would do so in silence, for she could trust no one, not even that beastly traitor. She simply stayed still, forcing herself to remain calm as she was once again left alone, the memories finally finished. She didn't hope that he wouldn't recall any more memories, for she didn't know what hope was. Besides, she knew he'd never remember a single memory without recalling another similar to it, and she was proven right when another memory's actions assaulted her. She felt herself being brutally violated when there was no one but her in this dark room, and she knew that if she looked down, she'd see bruises forming from the abuse despite the fact that there was no one here to cause them.

She still refused to make a noise, though there were times when the occasional whimper escaped her lips, and when at last the memories finished completely, her shoulders slumped in exhaustion. She glared at the hands that were curled into fists on her bare legs, shivering as the temperature of her prison lowered to well below freezing point. She wished, not for the first time, that she had clothes. He had never thought to give her clothes, which, she supposed, was justified since he was oblivious to her existence, and so, she never had any, forced to bear through the arctic temperatures of this room without anything that could keep her warm. This room didn't even have a bed, which most likely would've been accompanied by a blanket, but the lack of it didn't affect her. She, after all, didn't sleep. She was just a manifestation, nothing more, thus she didn't have the same necessities as him, and yet being like him was the one thing she truly desired. She wanted the freedom he had been born with, to be finally able to see the world outside of this wretched prison.

"_I promised Sakura-chan that I'd bring you back, and if I have to break every bone in your body to do it, then I will!"_

Why? Why would he possibly want to keep a promise to that bitch? That girl had always mistreated them, had never said or done a nice thing to them, but that moron just didn't know how to protect himself, did he? He'd always be doing things that would inevitably get himself hurt, wouldn't he? If she had been in his place, she would've never returned to that screeching banshee. She would've left and never looked back. Why bother caring for someone who had always kicked them while they were down? Even now, she could feel the flash of hatred cramming into her being, and she knew that that hatred was directed at that bitch, but of course he wouldn't feel it. He had, as always, suppressed that anger to the point that his mind automatically repressed any negative emotion before he even noticed their presence, but by doing so, she would be on the receiving end of it, whether she wanted it or not.

It was more than clear as day that they were polar opposites. He was a happy-go-lucky, naïve loudmouth, but she was silent and rather cynical, though the latter was understandable considering everything she had gone through in her existence. He was real while she was a complex manifestation of the emotions he had cast away, never to get the chance to smell the scent of oncoming rain, see the sunset that he had once said was so beautiful, hear the birds' melodious songs, taste the food that he had claimed was the food of the gods, or even feel the refreshing coolness after jumping into a cold lake or river in the middle of a hot day. He was light personified, and she was a mistress of darkness.

He was Uzumaki Naruto.

She was Yami Naruto.

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This creates an interesting, as well as twisted, perspective on what Yami Naruto might've gone through, doesn't it?

Don't know when this will be updated next. I've got like four or five other stories I want to finish first, and then there's school messing up my schedule, so I won't guarantee anything. Sorry.


End file.
